Free Second Street Station by Lawrence H. Levy Page A

to work.
    With the situation under control, Chief Campbell turned to Mary. “In my office at the station in one hour, young lady,” he said sternly.
    Mary’s heart sank. Officer Russell, who had a sneer for every occasion, had one of pure joy.

8
    Mary sat on the bench outside Chief Campbell’s office. He was already forty-five minutes late and each passing minute gave her more time to obsess over what she had done. She had always been bold about her knowledge, but this time she had gone too far. Her actions could reflect poorly on Billy and possibly Sean, too. Sean was trying hard to make a career for himself, and the last thing Mary wanted to be was a stumbling block.
    When Chief Campbell finally arrived, he entered his office without even looking at Mary. After thirty seconds, he emerged.
    “Well, Miss Handley, are you coming in or not?”
    Chief Campbell had developed a technique for dealing with people during his twenty-two years on the police force. He found that if he was able to keep them off balance, he usually got an honest reaction. Unnerved, Mary entered his office.
    “Do have a seat, Miss Handley,” he said. “We have some important matters to discuss, not the least of which is your unusual behavior on Degraw Street.”
    As Mary sat, Chief Campbell walked around his desk to his chair.
    “I am sorry if my impetuous actions offended you in any way, Chief Campbell,” Mary blurted out, then continued at breakneck speed about Kate being Goodrich’s fiancée and how her brazen behavior was only intended to help her grieving friend.
    Chief Campbell sat back in his chair, unconsciously scratching his neck just under his chin. After many versions of “I’m sorry,” Mary concluded with, “You have my solemn promise I will never interfere ever again.”
    Chief Campbell stared at her briefly, then said, “That’s reassuring, yet also unfortunate.” Mary was confused. “I had hoped, Miss Handley, you would help us find Charles Goodrich’s murderer.”
    Chief Campbell’s technique worked. Mary was beyond off balance. She was absolutely stunned…and totally delighted.

    Chief Campbell was late for his meeting with Mary because he had been forced to take a detour that would change everything. He had been summoned to police headquarters by his bosses, Police Commissioners James Jourdan and Daniel Briggs.
    Jourdan sat behind his large desk. A natty dresser in his fifties, he was tall and thin with a thick crop of brown hair. He smelled of too much cologne and sported the mustache of a dandy. Jourdan was hardly that; it was more wishful thinking on his part than anything else. Briggs was in his late forties and Jourdan’s polar opposite. He was average height, balding, and heavyset with a pronounced double chin. Though he wore an expensive suit, there was always something amiss: a stain on his tie, a cigar burn, etc. Briggs was forever puffing on a cigar and would bark his displeasure if the minutest detail didn’t go his way.
    Briggs stood behind Jourdan, occasionally glancing out the window at the female protesters in front of their building. He grunted his disapproval of their chants, their signs, and their mere presence. Being more political, Jourdan kept his views to himself. However, he had been under pressure from both above and below him and thought this latest directive from the very top might get everyone off his back.
    “We would like you to hire a woman to spearhead the Goodrich murder investigation,” Jourdan said, clasping his hands on his desk. “As soon as possible.”
    “A woman?” Chief Campbell said, as if making sure he had heard Jourdan correctly.
    “As a separate private investigator, of course,” Jourdan hastily added, “not as part of the force. We definitely don’t want to set that precedent.”
    “Absolutely not,” Briggs chimed in.
    “Did Goodrich’s brother make this request?” Chief Campbell responded. “We already had to halt everything at the murder scene